


Come Back to Me (Indrid's POV)

by tikkikwami



Series: Come Back to Me [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (Podcast)
Genre: Feral Behavior, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Duck Newton, hey it's fluff, please read the author note :O, rated T for being at about the same level of violence/cursing as TAZ in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tikkikwami/pseuds/tikkikwami
Summary: After the tree battle, Indrid finds himself injured and alone. Who will help him recuperate? (Duck. Duck will.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this! I worked pretty hard on it.  
> I'm posting the entire work at once because I have no sense of self-control or suspense :)
> 
> I couldn't decide whose point of view I wanted to write for any given scene, so how about both?  
> Duck's POV --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536371/chapters/43934332
> 
> -
> 
> Check out my moth Indrid designs at https://toyhou.se/4043663.indrid-taz- !

*

***

*

With a pained gasp, Indrid jumped into the air, flapping his wings in a takeoff. The battle with the tree abomination still raged below.

Indrid could feel himself getting closer to losing consciousness with each flap of his wings. He just needed to get further into the forest, somewhere nobody could find him, so he could recuperate from the battle in peace. 

He was injured in a couple of places, but no bones had been broken, and he didn’t need stitches. Plus sylphs healed quickly anyway, so it shouldn’t be a problem. 

Indrid landed carefully on a thick tree branch, breathing heavily. He was exhausted. He just needed to get to some sort of shelter before he fell asleep, and hopefully by the time he woke up he’d feel better. As a nervous habit, he reached up to touch his crystal necklace. 

He felt nothing. Frantically, Indrid felt around his neck for the leather cord holding the crystal from Sylvain that sustained him, and felt nothing. Oh. Oh no. 

Indrid knew he needed to get to the hot springs fast, or else things could get ugly. But his eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion, and leaning against the tree, he slipped into the type of deep sleep one gets when healing.

*

***

*

When Indrid woke up, the small portion of his mind that still clung to sanity knew he was utterly fucked. 

He _couldn’t form words_ in his thoughts. Images, feelings, sounds, sure. But the realization that he couldn’t even speak made him feel icy with terror. Unfortunately, the fear only served to push him further to the brink of being a feral sylph. To being an animal. 

Dazed, he watched a series of nonsensical images and sounds burst through his mind, one after the other, some in parallel. It made no sense, and the overwhelmed feeling he had only grew stronger.

Home. It wasn’t a word in his mind, but a concept, a tugging inside him toward the place he felt safe: his winnebago. 

Unfortunately, when he arrived, he couldn’t quite grasp the concept of a door handle, and smashed the door until it swung open. He scurried inside with a whimper. The darkness felt safer. But he was still afraid. 

Especially with the visions. He knew he couldn’t escape from what was happening inside his own head, so he hid in his RV and hoped things would get better soon. Although it was warm, he was shivering, this time from fear.

*

***

*

Indrid awoke to the sound of noises outside his winnebago. Crouching in the dark, he heard a loud thud, footsteps, and vocal sounds by the entrance of the camper. He was terrified. There was nowhere else he could hide. He was trapped. 

And of course, a scared, trapped animal becomes angry. 

When the door slowly creaked open, Indrid bristled. A figure stepped into the doorway, making more of those vocal sounds. It was loud and invading his space. So he did what any self-respecting feral sylph would do: he growled and prepared to fight. 

But he stopped in his tracks, seeing the person hold up his lost necklace. The crystal. He felt an intense urge to touch it and snatched it away from the figure. Finally, he had it. 

He felt like there was something he was supposed to do with it, but no obvious solutions came to mind. It wasn’t edible or a weapon, so what was it? 

One of the noises the person made sounded familiar. He felt a small burst of recognition. His name. Indrid. And when he looked up at the person, he relaxed some, knowing this person meant no harm. He was a friend. He was a friend, and Indrid knew him, and knew he was not anything approaching a threat. 

He gratefully let the person put the necklace around his neck. There. That was what he needed to do with it, and now that it was done he was already starting to feel less afraid. 

But then the person turned as if to leave, and Indrid felt a sense of desperation come over him. He didn’t want to be alone again. He was afraid, and this was a friend, and he needed someone right now. Blocking the doorway, the person made more noises, and this time they sounded rhythmic, like something familiar. Words. 

As the person talked, Indrid remembered their name. Duck. Duck made him feel safe, and he was so relieved to have him here after being so afraid for so long. Although, he instinctively shrank away from his touch - friend or not, contact made him nervous when he was already so stressed. 

This time when Duck spoke, Indrid was able to follow the sentence some. He heard “Aubrey” and “glasses” and realized he was talking about Indrid’s glasses. Aubrey had them. She was at the tree battle, and she had the glasses he lost. 

Finally, he was able to understand what Duck was saying. “Chirp again if you understand me.” Excitedly, he chirped. Abstractly, he knew it was important to get back to how he was, to be able to talk again, but that seemed so far away now. He was grateful to even be able to _understand words_ again. 

He didn’t mind Duck using his phone. It was his, but he trusted Duck, and he trusted Duck with his things. He heard his name and felt a little happy thrill at hearing it again. 

When Duck turned to him, Indrid looked back into his eyes. The eye contact seemed intense, somehow. "So if you can't talk or anythin', why d'you want me here?" Duck asked him. 

Unsure how to answer, and maybe a little embarrassed, Indrid flicked his antennae. 

"Okay, I guess I set myself up for that one. You can't exactly answer me right now,” Duck said. Indrid chirped in agreement, then Duck continued talking. "Do y’just want me to stick around for a little while? Because this doesn't seem fun, and it seems extra shitty if you have to go through it on your lonesome." 

Indrid nodded. He felt vulnerable. He trusted Duck, and knew he was safe to be vulnerable around, but felt nervous all the same. Duck saw him nod and said, "Okay, the ability to use gestures is back? So it seems like you're getting better. 'Cause when I got here, you didn't even recognize me, then it took you a li'l while to understand what I was sayin'. But now you can understand me, and you nodded, so I guess you can answer yes or no questions?" Indrid felt a small portion of his stress melt away at hearing Duck reinforce that he was getting better. He was getting better. It would just take time.

Indrid nodded again. "Do you remember what happened at the battle with the tree abomination?" Nod. "Do you remember flying away?" Nod. "Do you remember landing?" Indrid looked at the ground and shook his head slowly, feeling dread creep in. "And anythin' between then and when I showed up?" 

Another no. Indrid felt himself getting overwhelmed again at how far gone he was earlier. He had nearly gone completely feral. Duck arrived just in time to save him.

He closed his eyes tightly as Duck kept asking him questions. "Did you actually not recognize me when I got here?" Remembering the way he growled at Duck, Indrid pulled his wings in close and curled in on himself as he shook his head. He felt such shame. He’d been acting like an animal. He actually was an animal, for a time. And maybe he still was.

“Hey,” he heard, and Indrid was grateful for the softness of his voice as Duck sat beside him on the couch. He closed his eyes again as Duck rubbed his shoulder, feeling some of his tension leave him. He was safe, he reminded himself. Safe. At home.

Indrid felt a little surge of affection for Duck, for helping him without a second thought, for being with him. Then he heard Duck murmur, “Oh, you’re soft,” as if Indrid wasn’t meant to hear it. He tried to hide his amused smile, but failed as it twisted into a smirk. 

Something in his chest grew warm as Duck started to blush. "Yeah, okay, fuck me I guess for tryin' to help my friend,” he said. Oh, that wouldn’t do. Duck was here helping him feel better, and he’d been rude. Indrid wrapped his two largest wings on the side nearest Duck around him to pull him closer in a small hug. He hoped the apology came across clearly. 

He watched with wide eyes as Duck became flustered at the contact. His voice cracked as he joked, "This is nice 'n all, uh, since you're snug as a bug in a rug, get it?" Indrid just gave him side-eye in response. Bug jokes, really? "Fine, Jesus. I was just sayin' that maybe like, this is a little bit, uh, close?” 

Hmm. They were very close. Indrid had almost forgotten that he was almost entirely the reason Duck was pressed against him. But the thought of letting go made another little spike of anxiety appear, and he chirped. He needed this right now. Maybe Duck would understand that. 

"Okay, we already established that I can't fuckin' understand moth language." Indrid tilted his head at him, thinking. How could he communicate right now, really? Forming words felt like a gargantuan task. Even thinking in words was still a bit difficult; his thoughts were a disorganized swirl of feelings and images and urges and scattered words. There were also visions flitting in and out of his mind, each slipping away before he could focus on it, and it made him frustrated. Just trying to see any of them clearly made his head hurt.

He decided just to chirp again. Duck seemed to get the gist when he had chirped so far. "I wish I knew what you were sayin'," Duck sighed, leaning his head on Indrid's shoulder. Indrid felt a strange sort of happiness. The closeness was comforting but made him nervous at the same time. 

He recalled the little crush he had on Duck before the tree battle. It felt so long ago already.

Duck continued, saying, "Wish I knew how to help." The sentiment was clearly returned with another definitive chirp. Indrid wished once again that he could just talk.

*

***

*


	2. Chapter 2

*

***

*

When Aubrey knocked wildly on the winnebago door, it sent Indrid into a state of terror like a lightning bolt had hit him. In a burst of speed he was pressed against the very back of the RV, panting in fear. He was supposed to be safe here, this was supposed to be where he could hide, _he couldn’t be seen_ \- 

With panic, he felt himself slipping back into a more feral state. This fear was redirected into anger at this person for invading his space and making him feel so awful. He huffed in annoyance as Duck allowed the person to enter.

Seeing her, Indrid heard himself growling again. He was just desperate, wanted to be safe, wanted this person to leave. Duck exchanged hurried and quiet words with her. Aubrey. Indrid remembered her name was Aubrey. She was… supposed to be a friend. But she’d scared him, and he was on edge, and he kept growling. 

Then she looked right at him. She was afraid. She was afraid, and Indrid was angry, and with a louder growl he hoped she would leave. And she did, but not without trying to take Duck with her, which was unacceptable. He hissed angrily. Indrid needed Duck right now, needed him to help him stay grounded, needed him to get better. 

If Duck left, he might become completely feral, which would be a disaster. But strangely, Indrid felt more strongly about the fact that he’d grown attached to having Duck here, like he was a lifeline and the only thing making him feel safe. If Duck left, would that sense of safety leave too? It sure felt like it. And that gave him a little sense of despair. 

But then Duck told him he wasn’t leaving him, not really, just for a minute. Indrid leaned into the hand on his shoulder, wishing Duck could just stay, even if he would only be gone a minute. Indrid nodded and chirped to let Duck know it was okay, still nervous that Duck really was leaving, but he trusted Duck, trusted him to come back. 

Indrid crawled on the couch to wait, listening to the voices outside without really hearing what they were saying. He was distracted by visions moving too quickly through his mind to understand. Maybe drawing would help. It usually did. He opened his sketchbook, but his head hurt trying to figure out how to draw again, and he shut it hopelessly.

*

***

*

The feeling of being overwhelmed and scared came back with full force, making Indrid whimper. 

Indrid looked up with relief as Duck walked back into the camper. "You doin' alright?" He had tried to blink away any tears before Duck saw, but apparently he’d seen them anyway. "Aw, 'Drid," Duck said, voice gentle, as he sat himself onto the couch beside him. Indrid started to feel more calm as Duck hugged him from the side. He was soft, and warm, and solid. "It's okay. We're gonna fix this, and you're gonna be alright again, y'hear me?" Indrid scrubbed his eyes of tears and nodded shakily. 

Duck asked, "What're you drawing?" He was probably trying to be kind and change the subject to something lighter, but Indrid was still frustrated at his lack of drawing ability. With an upset sigh, Indrid placed the sketchpad back on his desk, able to reach it without standing up. "Do you- are you able to draw?" Indrid shook his head, unwilling to meet Duck’s eyes right now. "So I guess writing what you wanna say is also a no-go?" He nodded.

If the seer couldn’t draw images, writing words was out of the question. Well, there was one small comfort: thinking words had become easier now. Not that he could communicate that with Duck.

But then Duck said something that helped soothe him. "Damn. Maybe you'll be able to do that later, huh? Since you're already improvin'." He chirped, grateful, and wrapped a wing around Duck’s shoulders, only barely touching him. It just felt nice to have him close. 

Then Duck leaned back against his wing, making his heart flutter. Apparently Duck liked the wing hugs. He asked, "This okay?" and Indrid nodded happily. 

Then Duck asked, "You want your glasses?" Indrid hesitated. In his sylph form he was strong, powerful, dangerous. It made him feel safer than being a scrawny human. He slowly shook his head no. "They're on the table when you want them. No pressure,” Duck told him, voice gentle. He was so patient. Indrid felt that little soft spot he had for Duck grow just a bit more. 

Indrid still felt agitated, so he tried to focus on the sound of Duck’s breaths - they were almost loud to his sensitive hearing - and timed their breaths together. It was easier than trying to breathe slowly on his own. 

He felt much more relaxed than he’d been able to feel all day by the time that Duck talked again. "What if I get a book from my car? I can read it out loud," he suggested, and Indrid nodded furiously. He’d been in a state of tension, fear, and discomfort for several days. But hiding out here was also _boring_ , so it was even more horrible. Having Duck read to him would be a welcome change of pace.

Duck laughed. "Okay, damn, I'm on it," he said, stepping out of the winnebago.

*

***

*

Duck returned in a moment with a couple of paperback books in his hand. "Well, I didn't expect to be providin' anyone else with entertainment with these, so they're more geared toward my own interests," he told Indrid, holding them up for him to see. "Can you understand what either of the titles say?" 

Indrid leaned in, looking at them closely and concentrating as best he could. He could see distinct symbols but couldn’t find meaning in them. Sighing unhappily, he shook his head. 

"That's okay," Duck said, sitting down on the couch beside Indrid. Again, he gently draped his wings over Duck’s shoulder, pulling him a little closer. Having him there made the situation much less frightening, and the contact was comforting. 

Then Duck said, "Oh, hi. You're a real snuggler, huh?" and Indrid felt like he wanted to disappear, chittering with embarrassment. He fidgeted with his hands, looking at them to avoid Duck’s eyes. 

"No, it's okay," Duck assured him. "It's, uh. It's kinda nice, actually." It eased some of the embarrassment, but made Indrid’s heart pound for other reasons. 

Before he had much time to think about what he’d said, Duck held one book in each hand, showing them to Indrid again. "So you got the choice of, uh, an anthology of nature poems, or the first Harry Potter book." 

Indrid deliberated for a moment. He hadn’t read either of the books, so they seemed to be equally good options, but at the same time, he also hadn’t heard poetry in so long. It had been commonplace back at the Sylvain court, but that was over a hundred years ago, and a tug of nostalgia made the choice for him. Indrid tapped the book of poems with a finger. 

Duck looked at it, seeming curious, but it felt a little invasive, being examined like a foreign object. Indrid chittered and pulled it away. "Yeah, sorry, starin's rude," Duck apologized, and set aside the Harry Potter book. 

"Anyways..." Duck said, sounding a little embarrassed, and he opened the book to the first page, the table of contents. "Shit, I guess poetry on Earth is way different than on Sylvain, huh?" Indrid just shrugged. He had no idea, actually. And even if he did, he couldn’t talk anyway. "So you, uh... you prob'ly don't have a favorite poet from Earth, do you?" Nope. "Alright, so I haven't actually read most of these, even if I recognize some of the authors. Of the ones I know on this list, they're pretty good, so this shouldn't be the worst book of poems ever written.” 

Then Duck said something much more embarrassing than his rudeness earlier. “I should know. God, I had a journal of ‘em in high school, they're horrendous." Indrid tried to stifle his laughter, but clearly looked amused, and Duck huffed. "Yeah, I've tried to write poetry, yuck it up," he sighed. "I think I'd be better at it now, though. Got more life experience and shit, yeah?" 

Indrid tilted his head, wondering if Duck still wrote poetry. By habit he tried to look into the future to see, but winced, the flood of visions still not comprehensible or comfortable to look at. Being overwhelmed like that made his head hurt. Focus on the present, Indrid. Focus.

Duck didn’t notice his discomfort as he flipped through the opening pages. "Oh, first poem's by Emily Dickinson. She's fuckin' great," Duck said. Something about his little smile made Indrid happy. 

He leaned closer to look down at the book, not understanding the words but at least seeing the structure of the poem’s stanzas. "Anyways, the poem's called 'A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree,' and here goes..."

"A Drop fell on the Apple Tree"  
Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886

A Drop fell on the Apple Tree -  
Another - on the Roof -  
A Half a Dozen kissed the Eaves -  
And made the Gables laugh -

A few went out to help the Brook  
That went to help the Sea -  
Myself Conjectured were they Pearls -  
What Necklaces could be -

The Dust replaced, in Hoisted Roads -  
The Birds jocoser sung -  
The Sunshine threw his Hat away -  
The Bushes - spangles flung -

The Breezes brought dejected Lutes -  
And bathed them in the Glee -  
The Orient showed a single Flag,  
And signed the fête away -

[source: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/drop-fell-apple-tree-794 ]

It had been so long since Indrid had last evaluated poetry that he wasn’t completely sure if it was good or not. He looked at Duck to see what he thought. "Hm, at first I thought this poem didn't really have much to say except, y'know, look, it's raining, then it stopped, cool beans. But, like..." 

Duck’s voice trailed off, maybe getting a little lost in thought. Then he looked up at Indrid, noticing he’d been staring, and blushed heavily. Indrid felt a little thrill that he could make Duck shy like that. His eyes darted away nervously, but then he slowly turned his gaze back to Indrid.

Indrid noticed flecks of green and gold in his brown eyes, studying them, unwilling to look away.

"Uh, what I was sayin' is that it just- I like the way she made everything happy. Like the raindrops bein' pearls, and the sun throwin' a hat, although I don't quite know what she meant, really." Duck looked away again, seeming shy. Maybe people didn’t look into his eyes like that often. A shame, they were missing out. "Anyways..." 

And Duck read the next poem, and gave his input, then repeated the cycle a few more times. Indrid occasionally chirped in agreement during his little analyses, but mostly listened quietly. Sometimes he watched Duck as he read, sometimes he looked at the poem just to spare Duck from his shyness.

Having someone read to him was surprisingly relaxing. It just reminded him of feeling safe as a child with his family, and somehow he felt the same amount of trust toward Duck right now. The burst of affection that thought inspired in him made him want to pull Duck closer, and he did. Indrid felt his heart flutter as Duck messed up reading, stuttering through that line of the poem, clearly being thrown off his game by the closeness. 

He didn’t try to pull away, though.

When Duck eventually folded over the edge of the page into a dog-ear, Indrid huffed in disgust. It was an instinctive reaction. Of course, when he was growing up in Sylvain there had not been printing presses or anything like that, so purposefully damaging a book was definitely a big no-no. 

But Duck said, "I paid for this book, I can dog-ear it all I want," and his grin was some sort of cute, so Indrid’s irritation disappeared. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, putting his chin on his hands, and tried to pay attention to what Duck was saying instead of getting lost in his eyes. 

"Okay, enough of that. Readin' all that poetry kinda made me feel silly. It's kind of like... an artsy niche, y'know?" Indrid gave him a confused look, knowing he looked goofy from his antennae flopping to the side when he tilted his head, but he didn’t mind. For some reason Duck was easy to be around. Any embarrassment he had around him just came from shyness, really.

Duck continued. "I don't wanna be associated with readin' poetry. I don't want people to make assumptions. Like yeah, just 'cause I'm gay I gotta like artsy shit, sure," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Indrid felt concerned, remembering that humans who liked other humans of the same gender was looked down upon on Earth. He’d forgotten. 

"What I mean is, I don't want every fuckin' person at the Lodge thinkin' I'm a pansy 'cause of the poems and shit, so it'd be best if you kept this to yourself, y'know?" Duck explained. Indrid nodded, trying to hide his smile. Of course Duck would think that liking poetry automatically makes someone a ‘pansy.’ 

Then Duck just started stumbling through some sort of explanation that turned into an awful lie. "Well I don't, fuck, I know I'm not a pansy, it's just that, uh, it's that I very much don't write - dammit - poetry anymore, okay? I, uh, my journal got lost. I dropped it in the lake. Fuck, no I didn't. I, mmm, threw it down a storm drain?" 

Indrid couldn’t help but start laughing, buzzing and fluttering his wings in amusement. Duck’s awkwardness had a sort of charm. It was endearing. 

"Fuck! Okay, I write poetry, now I'm a walkin' stereotype, congratulations." Duck looked genuinely embarrassed, and Indrid didn’t like him being unhappy. He scooted closer again and chirped quietly, resting his head on top of Duck’s in a sort of cuddly apology. He felt a little thrill as Duck leaned closer with a little comfortable sigh. 

It was only a couple of minutes of silence later when Indrid realized Duck had fallen asleep in his arms. A happy sort of warmth filled his chest. And he realized something.

Indrid wasn’t enjoying Duck’s company because he just needed someone in general to help him through this. He needed Duck, specifically. With a little purr, he nuzzled the top of Duck’s head, feeling grateful that he had decided to stay with Indrid and help him recover from this.

*

***

*


	3. Chapter 3

*

***

*

Only thirty minutes had passed before Duck stirred, slowly waking up from his little nap. Indrid hadn’t fallen asleep, instead choosing to savor the peaceful moment. He was safe in his winnebago, holding someone he cared about, comfortably watching the sunset through the edges of the window curtains. By now it was dark, though. 

He looked down at Duck as he lifted his head, blinked slowly, looked at his watch, and buried his face in Indrid’s fur. He couldn’t help but smile. Duck was cute when he was sleepy.

But then apparently Duck suddenly remembered where he was, and he jumped as if startled, sitting up and looking around. Then he looked up at Indrid’s face and gave him a nervous grin. "I, uh, sorry?" Indrid just smirked with amusement, enjoying Duck’s shyness. "It was a long day at work, and, uh, it's real cozy in here, y'know. I'm startin' to get the space heater thing." 

Indrid nodded with a chirp, adjusting his wing that was currently wrapped around the ranger. "I hope I didn't, uh, offend you or anythin' by falling asleep. Even if you can't talk, I like havin' you around, don't want you to think you're borin' to me or anything." 

Something about the sincerity in his voice made Indrid suddenly shy. Just hearing out loud that Duck liked having him around gave him the butterflies. He chittered nervously, he couldn’t help it. 

"Fuck! Dammit. Sorry, I know that's your embarrassed sound, I guess, so, uh, fuck. I'm not great at, y'know, existing without being an awkward mess." The tension broke when Indrid laughed, and the comfortable atmosphere returned. 

Stretching, Duck yawned. "When's the last time you ate anythin', 'Drid?" After thinking for a moment, Indrid shook his head. He had maybe had some sugary drinks the first day he got back to the camper, but he hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, having been too frightened to remember to eat. 

"Okay, I'm hungry too, so I think I'll make a quick food run,” Duck told him. A small spike of fear at being left alone again made Indrid wrap the rest of his wings around Duck, keeping him pulled close. "O-Okay, so, uh, I'll, I won't be gone long, and this is kinda important, so you're not snugglin' your way outta this one, mister." 

Indrid couldn’t help but chirp sadly, now fighting himself internally. Duck should be able to leave if he wanted. But he really, really didn’t want to have to try to get better on his own. "I promise you I'm not leavin' you on your own tonight. That's partly because I wanna make sure we do everythin' we can to help you get back to normal, and if that means getting you food, then it's what I'll do."

With a long sigh, Indrid let Duck go, tucking his wings behind him neatly. The reassurances had let him relax just enough to let Duck leave. "Thank you. Okay, I need to know what you eat. Uh..." Duck paused, rubbing his cheek with his hand. For some reason, instead of really paying attention, Indrid watched Duck’s hand move, wondering if Duck’s skin was soft. 

"Is meat a thing? You eat meat?" Being torn from his train of thought, Indrid grimaced, shaking his head strongly. "Alright, cool your jets, we'll be havin' vegetarian food tonight," Duck teased, rubbing Indrid's arm as if to comfort him. It did. 

Then Duck asked, "You eat plants? Would salad be okay?" Indrid tilted his head, trying to figure out if that would actually be okay. On Sylvain he drank flower nectar, and that comes from plants... "If you have to think about it then it's prob'ly not a good idea, alright? Okay, no meat, no plants... what the fuck else is there?" 

Indrid brightened, realizing he could tell Duck his preference for sugary drinks. He moved to his trash can, pulling out a carton of eggnog. "Oh hell no," Duck said, crossing his arms. "I'm not givin' you eggnog for dinner, Indrid, Jesus." Indrid just gave him a flat look, feeling a little impatient. He hadn’t realized until Duck asked how hungry he felt. And he didn’t have the same nutritional needs as a human, even in his disguise, so Duck’s dietary guidance was unnecessary. 

Indrid pulled out a Capri Sun pouch to show Duck, tapping on it, hoping Duck would understand. Then Duck looked like he connected the dots. "Sugar?" The seer buzzed with relieved laughter, nodding. Duck asked, "You like it, uh, liquid? As opposed to like, a donut?" Again, he nodded. 

Duck put his palm to his forehead. "Like flower nectar. Got it. Should'a guessed that one, huh, that slipped right by me." He stood up. "I'm gonna call Aubrey and give her an update, just so she doesn't... do anything, I guess." Duck looked worried. 

Indrid fidgeted with his hands, trying not to think of what made Duck so nervous on his behalf. He had a feeling it had to do with Mama and her thoughts about feral sylphs. And the fact that Aubrey thought he was completely feral. Oh, _shoot_.

The seer laid down across the sofa, trying to put the nerve-wracking thoughts out of his mind, and wrapped his wings around himself like a blanket. Maybe he should take a nap while Duck was gone. Duck dialed the Amnesty Lodge again. "Hi, it's Duck," he greeted whoever picked the phone up. 

After a moment of hearing the other person talk, Duck answered, his voice quieter than before. Indrid felt a little fondness for Duck, being so considerate. "Uh, yeah. I just wanted to let you know things're goin' well." 

The other voice buzzed through the phone speaker again, but Indrid wasn’t paying attention to what it said, instead choosing to focus on trying to fall asleep. 

Although, he did listen to Duck’s voice, and enjoyed the sense of safety it gave him. "It means it's fuckin' going well, Aubrey, good lord. He's gettin' better by the minute, he even laughs now, and he was able to communicate pretty well a few times, so..." More words from the other voice. "I don't care if it's unheard of. Indrid will get better." 

Indrid looked up at him, the drowsiness starting in earnest. He’d been sleep deprived from how afraid he’d been those few days alone in this winnebago. 

"Hey," Duck said, his voice still soft. Indrid just chirped, closing his eyes. Then he felt a blanket being pulled over him, and he purred, pulling it closer. "I'll be back soon," Indrid heard Duck tell him before he left.

*

***

*

Indrid was having a hazy dream of visions mish-mashed together when a creak brought him back to wakefulness. He looked up in surprise, blinking a few times at Duck. Oh. Yes, he had returned, and the door of the camper was creaky now.

With a little laugh, Duck said, “Good morning,” and put some grocery bags on the table, along with a backpack on the floor. Indrid wasn’t quite awake yet, but he knew the shape of an eggnog carton when he saw it, so he rifled through the grocery bags to get it. 

Then Duck told him, "I know you're a fan of the 'nog, but I also got sodas and other sweet stuff too, in case you wanted to branch out or something.” Indrid looked at him fondly, watching him fix his ponytail. He was touched by the thoughtfulness.

Duck shrugged. "I'll drink it if you don't like it, no worries about wasting it. Just thought it would be nice." Indrid chirped happily at Duck as he shoved some food in the cupboard and the mini-fridge. While his back was turned, he started on the eggnog. 

He heard Duck say, "I dropped by my house real quick on the way back from the store just to pick up a spare change of clothes and such. I also got some of my favorite movies." Looking at the table, Indrid noticed the stack of DVDs sitting in one of the bags Duck brought in. 

"Uh, let's test somethin'. Can you read this?" Duck held up the DVD for Groundhog Day. Indrid leaned forward, squinting. The letters were familiar now, readable, even. It took him a minute to string together the letters into recognizable words, but then he could read the title, and nodded happily up at Duck. “Hell yeah,” Duck said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now we're gettin' somewhere." 

Duck’s enthusiasm just made his happiness grow, and Indrid couldn’t help but laugh, buzzes filling the air. Then Duck asked him, "You got a cozy movie-watchin' corner or somethin'?" 

Indrid thought for a moment before getting up off the couch to pull out the spare fold-out bed. It was right in front of the TV, and could fit plenty of blankets. And maybe two people if they didn’t mind being close together. "Oh, sweet," Duck said, grabbing the blankets from the couch and throwing them across the small mattress. "Surprise, I found where I'm sleepin' tonight." 

Indrid hadn’t realized Duck was staying the night, and was pleased. But he didn’t want him to just because he felt obligated. Thinking, Indrid looked at him for a couple of seconds too long. "Uh, or I could go home?" Duck said, his becoming uncertain. 

Oh, that’s not what he wanted at all. Indrid shook his head and grabbed Duck's hand. It made Duck blush and stutter. "I- I guess I'll stay here, uh, like I was plannin', then." Indrid chirped contentedly, glad Duck wanted to stay. 

He put the DVD in the player and turned on the TV with a remote he handed to Duck. "You ever seen this movie?" Duck asked, looking at him with curiosity.

When Indrid shook his head, Duck grinned. "Oh my god, you've never fuckin' seen Groundhog Day? _Good lord_ , Indrid, I thought you lived in a 'bago, not under a rock," he teased, and Indrid elbowed him playfully, buzzing with laughter. 

"Do you care if I talk during the movie?" Indrid shook his head. "Alrighty, then you get the director's cut featuring one Duck Newton." The seer smiled, looking forward to it.

The movie started. Indrid noticed with a warm feeling in his chest that Duck was nestled into his side. He wrapped his upper arm was around Duck’s shoulders, his lower arm around his waist. The wings on that side were resting around Duck’s shoulders. The closeness was making Indrid feel fuzzy inside. 

When Duck laid his head on Indrid’s chest, he started purring. He couldn’t help it, he was too happy and cozy. Luckily, Duck didn’t seem to mind. He just comfortably leaned against Indrid. Oddly, the ranger didn’t even talk during the movie, even though he said he would. Maybe he was too relaxed. Indrid definitely was.

*

***

*

After the movie, Duck looked at his watch and leaned away from Indrid. He let him pull away, his purrs dying down as the contact ceased. Duck turned off the TV, saying "This is 'bout when I usually go to bed, I'm not sure about your habits, though." 

Normally, Indrid just slept when he felt tired, hours of the day be damned. His circadian rhythm never adjusted to the 24-hour light cycle on Earth. Having forgotten he couldn’t speak, Indrid opened his mouth, then paused. The words wouldn’t come together in an organized way at all. He had thoughts, and he knew in general what he wanted to say, but putting those thoughts to words out loud was beyond him. It made him feel frustrated and a little helpless. 

"You don't gotta force it," Duck told him gently. "It'll come when it comes." He growled quietly, still annoyed that he wasn’t able to just talk to Duck like he wanted. 

Although, Duck seemed patient with him. "We could test how much you've improved in the mornin', give you some extra time to heal or whatever's goin' on in there," he said, playfully tapping Indrid's forehead. The seer swatted Duck’s hand away with a smile. Surprisingly, his irritation was gone. Duck’s words had made him feel less stressed already. 

Then Duck rubbed his face with his hands, yawning. Indrid noticed how tired he looked. "I'm goin' to sleep, if you still want me to stay." 

He chirped, grabbing Duck’s hand. He felt a little shy from how much he was showing his quickly-growing affection for Duck, but at the same time, it seemed Duck was returning his feelings. And when Duck smiled at him, he felt his heart flutter a little. "Then I'll stay." 

Indrid moved to get into his own fold-out bed he usually slept in. He was much bigger in this form, but there was still a little room to spare on the mattress. Piling blankets around himself, he settled into bed, feeling cozy. When Duck returned from getting ready for sleep, Indrid was already half-asleep.

Duck flipped off the switch of the lamp. Indrid blinked at him, able to see the glow from his eyes reflecting on the surfaces around him subtly. "G'night, 'Drid," Duck murmured. Indrid was smiling as he fell asleep.

*

***

*

Indrid was startled awake by the sound of a loud gasp nearby. He looked around in the surrounding darkness, a little confused. Then he saw Duck, who gave him an awkward, clearly fake smile. "Uh, sorry," he said, voice cracking. Indrid felt a tug on his heart. Duck sounded upset. 

He patted the mattress beside him with a little chirp, inviting Duck to cuddle with him again. The ranger got out of bed and sat down beside Indrid. "Nightmare," he said quietly, still seeming shaken. 

Indrid pulled him into his lap, wrapping all four arms around him. He purred softly, resting his head on top of Duck’s, hoping the contact would soothe him.

After a few minutes, Duck was much more relaxed than before, and he yawned. "Thanks," he mumbled, leaning his head on Indrid. "'M gonna fall asleep real soon here, though." 

Indrid let go of him and laid down on his side, leaving plenty of room for Duck to lay beside him. He patted the space again. It would be nice to keep him close by, just in case of more nightmares, of course. And so he could be Indrid’s teddy bear.

"Do, uh," Duck began, his tired voice barely stumbling out words. "D'you wan' me to sleep w'ya for now?" Indrid nodded, holding out his arms, and Duck collapsed into them, pressing up against his side. Indrid wrapped his arms and wings around Duck, feeling protective of him, wanting him to feel safe again. It seemed like it was working.

"Thanks," Duck said, muffled because his face was in Indrid's mane. Indrid purred and nuzzled the top of his head, carefully avoiding him with his mandibles, until he heard Duck breathing deeply and evenly. Then he fell asleep again, still purring.

*

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*


	4. Chapter 4

*

***

*

When Indrid woke up, the first thing he saw was Duck looking at him. His cheeks turned red at having been caught staring. "Mornin'," he mumbled, breaking the silence. 

"Good morning," Indrid replied, surprising them both.

"Oh fuck, you can talk again?" Duck sounded delighted, and snuggled closer. 

Indrid leaned his chin on top of Duck's head, seeming to contemplate. It was still hard to find the right words for what he was thinking, like there was some sort of barrier between his thoughts and speaking out loud. But that barrier was beginning to crumble. "Some," he eventually responded. With a purr, he pulled Duck closer. "Hi." 

Duck chuckled, nestling into Indrid’s arms. "Uh, yeah, hello," he replied, smiling. "So I guess you can talk only a little bit at a time, huh?" Indrid nodded, still feeling sleepy.

It was silent and calm except for Indrid's purrs. "This is nice," Duck sighed, leaning his head on Indrid's chest. Indrid heard his purrs get louder. He rubbed the back of Duck’s neck with one of his hands. Indrid felt him relax as the small amount of tension in Duck’s body melted away. 

And then the phone rang. Indrid's hold on him tightened, annoyed at the interruption. "If that's Aubrey, she'll be bustin' down the door if I don't answer," Duck grumbled. His words were firm, but the tone of his voice was regretful, as if leaving his embrace made him unhappy. "Cuddlin' can wait for maybe a minute." Indrid let go of him with a quiet chirp.

Picking up the phone hastily, Duck answered. "This's Indrid's phone," he said, voice still sounding sleepy. Indrid felt soft inside as he watched Duck on the phone, his curly hair all messy from sleep. The ponytail was half-undone. Indrid wondered if Duck would let him braid his hair. It looked _soft_.

Duck laughed at whatever Aubrey had said, looking at Indrid and grinning. He had caught Indrid staring - he chittered, embarrassed, and looked away, feeling like he had butterflies again. 

"I'm still alive, thanks. An' guess what? A certain somebody is startin' to be able to talk again,” Duck told her.

Indrid heard Aubrey gasp, "No way!"

"Yes way," Duck confirmed. "Now, is there anythin' else you needed? 'Cause it's Saturday and I usually-" Aubrey said something, then Indrid heard a click as the call ended. Duck set down the phone and turned back to Indrid.

The seer was sitting up now, holding out all four of his arms. He felt impatient to have Duck close again. The contact made him feel safe, comforted, and grounded, and he really enjoyed it, regardless of the shyness he felt.

Duck started laughing. "Oh, Jesus. Y'look so silly," he said, sitting on the bed and leaning into Indrid's hug. 

Indrid pulled him to sit sideways across his lap, and to catch himself Duck wrapped his arms around Indrid's neck. Indrid purred quietly, liking the way Duck was holding onto him. It was cute.

Then Duck spoke again. "Yeah, uh, I'm not makin' fun of you, I promise. It's just, y'know, the Mothman's supposed to be a frightenin' figure, no offense, but you're real fuckin' snuggly, and the contrast is just a li'l bit hilarious, you gotta admit." Indrid laughed buzzily, agreeing that the situation was fairly amusing. 

Duck adjusted himself a little so he could lean more on Indrid, resting his head against Indrid's shoulder. It made him feel warm inside, the way Duck just naturally fit in his embrace. 

"I dunno why this feels so normal. It shouldn't, right? You're from god knows how many light years away, if we were to take a spaceship to Sylvain, which we won't, because that's dumb. But y’get my point," Duck rambled, mindlessly stroking Indrid's mane of fur on his chest. "Like, this shouldn't feel normal, but it does." 

Indrid buzzed with laughter, interspersed with chitters. And he was still purring. It was kind of a mess of noises. It was also a mess of feelings. Happy, embarrassed, affectionate, shy.

"I guess that sounded a li'l rude. Lemme try again. This is nice, and I like it, even if you're a fuckin' alien, and it makes no sense to me." Indrid's purring got louder for a few seconds. 

What Duck said next made him laugh harder than he had in several days. "God, you're such a fuckin' sugarpie." A sugarpie? What does that even mean? Was that a compliment? A pet name, like ‘sweetie pie’?

After a few seconds of Indrid buzzing loudly, Duck asked "What?" His voice sounded a little defensive, but like he was on the verge of laughing, too.

While figuring out the words he wanted to say, Indrid pet Duck’s hair. It was as soft as he thought it would be. "Pet name," Indrid said softly. "Funny. Cute." The word ‘sugarpie’ really did sound like a pet name, and the thought of Duck calling him something so silly and sweet made him feel like he was floating.

Duck mumbled incoherently before sighing in defeat and turning his face to speak clearly. "What I meant was, uh, you just got a lotta affection for one moth." Indrid buzzed in amusement again, quieter this time. No matter what Duck said to defend his words, ‘sugarpie’ was undeniably silly. "I was usin' sugarpie as like, a general noun, just fuckin' sayin, like, you're a snugglebug." Indrid couldn’t hide his loud buzz of laughter. ‘ _Snugglebug_?’

Then Duck realized his mistake. "Fuck! Shit, that one's a pun. Okay, dammit, you can have that one." Still laughing, Indrid held him a little closer. He was just so silly and it made him fall for Duck just a little bit more.

After a few moments of calmness, Indrid tried speaking again, although it was still difficult. ‘Snugglebug’ was probably the best pet name he’d ever heard, and it would be an injustice if it went unused. “Like it,” he said simply. “Nickname.”

Indrid was delighted when Duck said, "Oh, what the hell, why not," his tone lighthearted. "Y'wanna be called a funny pet name like snugglebug, fine, I can say it all day." 

Although he’d just been the one to suggest it, Duck actually telling him his new pet name made him feel flustered. Indrid chirped, his hold on Duck relaxing. Thankfully, Duck didn’t tease him about it. For now. "D'you wanna watch another movie, or do the book thing again?" he asked, sliding off of Indrid's lap to stand again. 

Indrid shrugged. "Book?" he asked, smiling. The poems were nice earlier. Hearing Duck read to him was even nicer.

"If we do poems again you can practice talkin', uh, after each poem. Y'know I like to think about each one an' talk about 'em,” Duck said. It was a good idea. 

Indrid nodded, and Duck retrieved the book.

*

***

*

With the book of nature-themed poems in hand, Duck climbed onto the bed beside Indrid, settling in a foot or two away from Indrid. He already missed the warmth from being so close. "Uh, you wanna pick one out? Or just go in order?" 

Duck handed him the book. His visions were still too overwhelming to see if one poem was better than another, so Indrid just opened the book to a random page, then passed it back to the ranger. "Alright, lemme see," Duck said. He was cross-legged and sitting across from Indrid on the small mattress. "Uh, it says..."

"On a Mountain"  
by Frank O'Hara

Rocks with lichen on,  
rattling leaves and rotting snow

I shall live to finish this cigarette  
and the turnpike roars up a lesser hill,  
gleams the nether pond and the wire towers  
on the horizon.

A foot away in the dead sun  
a handkerchief lies dirty in the snow.

I'm smoking a Picayune  
"the worst cigarette," press lips upon  
the handkerchief  
and it is warm.

If you were with me  
a sweet and winning word might be heard  
out of me,

the bare trees under and the visible jet planes  
the enormous telegraph paths and grassy snow  
the pale photographic sky, the tangled air  
crackling above heaving marshes into the day

would all be leaves  
around the depth of your voice,  
owning me yours, not naturally so, beyond the barrier.

Here is where I  
have come, so high  
to find this true and all the sounds  
of lovers, and the pleasant cold.

[source: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=27317 ]

Duck didn’t say anything after reading the poem, seeming lost in thought. Indrid chirped quietly and said, "It's sweet. But sad." 

The ranger smiled at him for a moment before looking down at the paper again. "To be honest, I'm not real sure where the literal and metaphorical meet here. Like, it sounds good and has cool images, but don't quite make sense." 

Indrid held out his hands for the book, and Duck passed it to him. Indrid reread the poem a couple of times. He took a while to reply, first getting his thoughts in order then translating them to words with minor difficulty. "Literal mountain... hypothetical relationship. Lonely." 

Indrid still couldn’t put together whole sentences, but at least he could understand the poem, so his mind was still intact. He felt relieved. 

Looking up at Duck to see what he thought about the poem, Indrid was faced with the ranger giving him a soft smile, looking into his eyes with some sort of intensity. After a few seconds, Indrid couldn’t help but laugh quietly. Did Duck just zone out, or was he actually checking Indrid out?

The laugh seemed to startle him out of his trance. Face red, Duck looked around for a distraction, and said, "Uh, well, I think it's about gettin' time to be, y'know, maybe, breakfast time?" 

It was a good idea. Indrid was hungry again. "Sure," the moth person said, easily reaching into the high cabinets for some snacks. He set aside several sugary drinks for himself, and grabbed an orange and a protein bar for Duck. Those were things humans liked, right? Duck had brought them over, so he assumed so.

Then Indrid caught sight of his glasses sitting on the table. He’d almost forgotten about them. Now that he was able to form words, he felt a little less vulnerable than before, and wearing the glasses was no longer frightening, so he put them on.

He looked down to see his clothes were still bloody and dirty from the last time he'd been in the disguise, the tree battle. "Oh, shoot." 

"Hope you've done laundry recently," Duck teased. Indrid watched as he reached into his bag and pulled out a hairbrush. His elbow-length hair was rumpled and messy from sleeping, the ponytail’s hair tie having fallen out at some point.

Unfortunately, the answer was no. "Haven't," he answered, walking to the cabinets next to his bed. They were practically empty, just with spare briefs and sweatpants. Great.

Duck pulled a sweatshirt from his bag and tossed it to Indrid, who caught it without looking. Maybe his visions were starting to make sense again, barely. They had at least shown him that in one second Duck would be throwing him the sweatshirt, but anything beyond that was like trying to decipher an unsolvable puzzle. 

"You can just borrow that," Duck said helpfully. "We better do your fuckin' laundry today, though. Also, you need a shower, Jesus." 

Indrid nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. To be honest, after having been beaten to a pulp and dragged through the dirt, he was filthy. It wasn’t his fault, but still. He didn’t like Duck, _his crush_ , seeing him like this.

Then Duck stretched his arms above his head, yawning. "And I need to get in normal clothes so I can take a walk outside. It's a li'l bit cramped in here, don't know if you noticed, and you'll be showerin' anyway, so. Cabin fever. I'll be back soon." 

He’d already locked himself in the bathroom before Duck stepped out of the camper, but he was glad that even with some comfortable privacy, Duck would still be nearby. 

Looking at the potential futures still felt overwhelming and somewhat painful, but it was getting better, more clear than before. Of what he could see, Duck would be there in every single future, and that made him happy enough to chuckle quietly as he showered.

*

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*


	5. Chapter 5

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*

Indrid sat comfortably on his couch, feeling refreshed from the shower and clean clothes. He was combing through his hair for the first time in a while. The knots had made it look shorter, but it was just below his shoulders now. It was a relief that it wouldn’t be getting mats in it any time soon.

After it had been maybe fifteen minutes since Duck left, Indrid heard "Hey, 'Drid, it's me,” from the doorway. He recognized Duck’s voice and felt warm inside.

Indrid smiled happily and said, "Well, come in." He noticed that the words came more easily now. "Talking is easier. Future vision, too." 

He noticed as soon as Duck walked in that he looked so good in his button-down shirt. Was Duck trying to impress him? If so, it worked. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him, knowing he was smiling like a fool.

"Is that so?" Duck asked, shutting the door against the cold and taking off his jacket, hanging it over Indrid's desk chair. He lounged on Indrid’s couch, clearly becoming more familiar with the place, which made Indrid happy in an odd way. He wanted his home to feel like it could be Duck’s home, too, in a way.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Duck said, "I didn't know you were havin' visions the whole time, damn." 

Indrid winced and nodded. "Yes, it wasn't fun." He sat next to Duck with a small sigh. Somehow, it seemed less frightening if Duck was beside him. "Scary, actually." Then he realized he missed having his wings, because now he couldn’t drape them over Duck in a hug like before.

Then Duck rubbed his back comfortingly, and Indrid purred. "You do your noises when you're human?" Duck asked with a surprised smile. 

The seer looked down at the floor bashfully. "I made sure I could," he said. "Special enchantment." Yeah, he wanted to be able to communicate his own way no matter what form he was in. Even if it was weird.

For some reason, it didn’t seem to bother Duck. "How d'you do your laundry here, anyway?" he asked.

"Laundromat," Indrid said unhappily. It was horrible, going into town and waiting in the loud laundromat for hours while the machines slowly cleaned his clothes. It’s why he’d put it off for so long, really. But it was unavoidable.

Duck laughed quietly. Indrid was pulled out of his irritation, and just by hearing Duck’s laugh, he felt a little smile appear on his face. It was nice, the way Duck’s happiness was contagious. 

"We can do laundry at my apartment instead," Duck said, pulling up his curly hair into a ponytail again. It looked handsome, Indrid realized, his heart beating a little faster. "It'd be easier and prob'ly faster too."

Indrid nodded, briefly looking into the future to see if they’d stay the night there, but closed his eyes tightly at the barrage of visions. He still couldn’t see that far in the future without it feeling uncomfortable. Fine, he’d just have to ask. "Will we stay there?" Indrid said. "Overnight." 

"Well, sure, if you wanna," Duck said, standing up again. "Bring whatever you want, I don't mind. I have space heaters in case my power goes out, but we can pull 'em out regardless, seein' you like the heat so much." 

Goodness. Duck was so considerate of his needs that it made Indrid feel a little special. Oh, and there were the butterflies again. "Now get goin'. I can help, too,” Duck said.

They ended up filling a small duffel bag with items Indrid would need to stay the night, plus a tote bag of the food Duck had brought back from the grocery store earlier. And Indrid's bag of laundry to do, of course. 

Duck wanted Indrid to unplug the space heaters while he was gone, citing a fire risk. But he flat-out refused to come back to an icy cold camper that took hours to fully heat up again. He felt a little triumphant that Duck caved so easily to his insistent request to leave at least one space heater plugged in. 

It was as if the ranger had a soft spot for him.

*

***

*

The drive over was quiet. Since he mostly kept his eyes on the road, Indrid felt comfortable just looking at him. He was an artist, after all. He studied the lines of Duck’s face, the sharp jawline, the gentle slope of his nose. All in all, Indrid thought Duck was gorgeous.

It felt like no time at all had passed during the drive, Indrid had gotten so lost in his thoughts looking at Duck. “So my apartment’s on the second floor,” he told Indrid, grabbing the bags. When Indrid reached for one, he pulled it away. “Now git. You’re fuckin’ injured, or somethin’, not really sure what’s goin’ on, actually. But you’re not carryin’ this stuff, okay?” 

Something about the protectiveness of the gesture made him feel melty inside. Something about how much of a gentleman Duck was without even trying, it was just the way he was. And Indrid liked it so much.

He just nodded at Duck with a small smile. “Okay,” he agreed, quiet. 

Opening his door, Duck placed the bags on the ground a few feet into the apartment. “I know you’re probably fuckin’ freezing by now, so lemme get those space heaters and blankets…” Indrid sat on his couch and stretched while Duck plugged the space heaters in. He shivered. 

It wasn’t as if Duck’s apartment was frigid - it was probably comfortable for a normal human. But Indrid wasn’t a normal human, and he needed the extra warmth, eagerly awaiting the warmth of the space heaters.

“It ain’t that cold,” Duck grumbled. But contrasting with his tone, he hurried to get some spare blankets. Again, Indrid was touched. Duck was prioritizing his needs and it was so sweet.

Indrid reached for the blankets gratefully as Duck walked back into the living room, wrapping them around himself tightly. “Thank you,” he said happily. “I’m warm now.” In more ways than one, because Duck made him feel warm inside in general. 

“You’re, uh, welcome.” Duck looked uncertain for a moment before taking Indrid’s laundry to the laundry room, quickly throwing them into the wash. Indrid could have done that, but Duck did it for him without asking because he’s just that polite. It made Indrid smile fondly.

When Duck walked back into the room and saw Indrid, he said, “Oh yeah, we’re supposed to keep tryin’ to help get you back to baseline,” as if he had forgotten. Indrid watched as he pulled his pretty hair out of the ponytail. “Would readin’ help? Or, wait, you could draw,” he realized, and pulled several sketchbooks and pens out of Indrid’s duffel bag. 

“Yes, please,” Indrid said, taking them out of Duck’s hands and immediately flipping one open, starting to scribble. “I missed this.” He really did. Those couple of days alone in his camper, frightened and hiding, were made worse by the incomprehensible visions, especially since he had no way of interpreting them, unable to draw.

A little vision popped into his mind of Duck playing the guitar while Indrid was drawing beside him. The domesticity of the scene made him feel... some sort of way. Happy to anticipate spending more time with Duck, sure. Hey, and the vision didn’t even hurt his head at all. 

Then the ranger in question walked into his bedroom and reappeared with a guitar. “D’you care if I mess around with this while ya draw? I haven’t played since the tree battle, actually, and I miss it, too.”

Indrid smiled at him as he sat on the couch beside him. “Feel free,” he said, before putting his gaze back on the paper, finishing the sketch and flipping to the next page to begin the process again. It was of cars parked outside Amnesty Lodge, Agent Stern’s missing, surprisingly. “Both help with stress.” 

Then Indrid paused. Oh, wait, there was Stern, the vision changing. He decided to stick around after all, then. Indrid put a small X on the corner of the page in place of crumpling the paper like he usually did. It seemed a little rude to litter in Duck’s apartment. He flipped to the next page once again. “Future vision is stressful.” To put it mildly.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Duck said playfully. It sounded like he was tuning the guitar, but Indrid didn’t bother to look up, still drawing out his visions into the sketchpad. “Though mine aren’t nearly as bad as yours, I’d imagine. I just get one every once in a while.” 

Indrid nodded. It made sense that he had some powers, actually. He’d already known Duck was some sort of Chosen One, having a ghostly visitor train him every day for a while now. Minerva, that was her name, he remembered. She was in a surprising amount of his visions, since Duck’s reactions to her appeared to be pivotal moments in the timeline. Even if she didn’t even live on this planet.

Duck finished the tuning and started strumming quietly, switching chords intermittently. “Mine are constant,” Indrid told him, not looking up. “Distracting. Chaotic.” 

Some days he forgot to eat for hours and hours before realizing he’d been drawing out his visions the whole day, lost in the possibilities, the statistics, all of the ways things could go so right or so wrong. And some days he ignored them completely. 

The visions didn’t control him, but his gift of foresight certainly guided the way his life went, especially since he could never really tune them out or turn them off. They were just there. He could focus on the present instead of the futures, but they were always there in the back of his mind, just waiting for him to examine them.

Duck hummed sympathetically. He started playing something slow and calming. “So drawing helps?” 

Indrid nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Helps me see what’s important.” He paused, surprised at what he had drawn. It was him and Duck at Amnesty Lodge, laughing and holding hands. Feeling his heart rate speed up, he hurriedly flipped to the next page again before Duck could see. 

“D’you always pin them up on your wall like a conspiracy theorist?” Duck teased. He supposed that is the way his winnebago’s walls would appear, images piled on top of one another with thumbtacks, crumpled papers all over the floor. 

“When necessary,” Indrid said, humming along with the tune. He didn’t know the song, but he also couldn’t help but hear it just a second ahead of time in his visions, so he just followed along in the present. It was a nice song. “I get a deeper understanding. Lets me make connections.” 

Duck nodded slowly. The song he was playing eventually blended into a new tune, still with a slow tempo and quiet volume. Indrid thought it sounded like home.

*

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*


	6. Chapter 6

*

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*

Well, that’s an interesting future. 

Indrid wasn’t a mind reader, but he knew when someone was thinking about saying something, because in a potential future the person would say that thing. And Duck was thinking of calling him beautiful. 

He looked up to see Duck was just looking at him with a soft blush, still absently playing the guitar. “What are you thinking about?” Indrid asked. Of course, it wasn’t nice of him to tease Duck, but it was so _easy_. And the silly way he would react was equally funny and cute.

Duck blinked a few times, then looked away and stopped playing the guitar, instead resting his arm against the top of it. “Uh… well, first, I was thinkin’ about, uh, the music. Fuck. I was writing, no, composing music - dammit! - I was thinking up a new, uh, song, in my brain,” he rambled - a horrible, horrible lie.

Indrid had his hand on his mouth, and he was trying to stifle his laughter. “Oh, yeah? What’s the song about?” He wondered how long Duck would keep this shitty lie going. 

“It’s about, uh, birds, and, just birds. Fuck. Nothing other than birds. Mostly, a, uh, hmm. I haven’t finished that part yet, not yet, no.” 

Then Indrid broke down and couldn’t stop himself from laughing hard. The random jumble of words and stutters, combined with his blush, were cute as hell. But the things he said were ridiculous. “Goodness, Duck.” 

“I can’t help it!” Duck protested, idly finger-picking a quiet song on the guitar now. “I’m just plain god-awful at lyin’, and that ain’t gonna change, but I also won’t tell the truth. We’re at an impasse.” 

“That we are,” Indrid said as he slowly turned the page of his sketchbook. He didn’t want to be done with this drawing because looking at it made him just that happy, but more visions did need drawing. It was Duck, sitting on the same couch and playing guitar, but he was wearing different clothes, meaning there would be another time the two did this, and that warmed his heart. 

And it was easier to look across multiple futures at the same time now. With a bit of concentration, he determined there was a 90% chance the vision would happen, and he felt a little burst of happiness at the thought. He liked spending time with Duck.

“Any- any important visions?” Duck asked, strumming as quietly as he could so he could hear Indrid’s reply.

With a comfortable sigh, Indrid closed the sketchbook and sank into the couch, relaxing deeply. “Nothing bad should happen today,” he said, hearing the relief in his voice. “No other futures that need drawing.” Thank goodness. He’d already drawn the most important ones, and they mostly just involved him and Duck spending time together. There were no accidents or crises bound to happen in Kepler today.

Looking at the frets of the guitar, Duck fingerpicked a quiet tune. Indrid pushed his glasses up onto his forehead so he could see Duck more clearly. It wasn’t too bright in here, so his sensitive eyes didn’t hurt, and he felt safe enough around Duck that even if his glasses fell off, it wouldn’t be a problem. With a small, fond smile, Indrid watched Duck play. He knew he was improvising because of the many visions where he chose different chords to play as each moment passed. 

And honestly, he was impressed. Duck was good at this.

Then Duck looked up and met his gaze, his expression turning into one of wonder. Indrid felt a little thrill at being admired. His shimmering red eyes were unique, to put it mildly, so he knew Duck would be surprised, but he didn’t think he’d actually be _awestruck_. He felt equally flattered and amused by Duck’s reaction to seeing his eyes.

Duck’s hands slipped and he made an obvious mistake in his playing. “‘M just gonna stop playin’ now,” he explained, setting the guitar in its own chair beside the couch. “Y’wanna watch a movie or somethin’?” 

“Sure, Duck,” Indrid answered, still amused. “What do you have in mind?” 

Duck snapped his fingers, remembering the stack of DVDs still sitting in the bag near the kitchen. He had brought them to Indrid’s because they were his favorites, so of course these were the ones he wanted to pick from. 

He brought a few of them back to the couch, handing them to Indrid, who was bemused. “I haven’t seen any of these,” he told the ranger, looking up at him and lifting an eyebrow.

Duck shook his head in disbelief. “God, Indrid, how is that fuckin’ possible? Wait, no, I do know it’s because of actual reasons, don’t bother explainin’, but seriously, these movies are good and we’re gonna watch them all.” 

“That sounds like a movie marathon is in the works,” Indrid said. He honestly felt excited. Usually, if he watched something, he was alone. He wasn’t used to having someone to watch movies with. Especially someone he was currently thinking about snuggling up with.

Duck hummed. “I’m makin’ popcorn, you’re pickin’ what movie we start with,” he told Indrid as he stood up.

*

***

*

After a couple of minutes Duck returned with a large bowl of popcorn. “Hope you don’t mind sharin’,” he said, placing the bowl on the coffee table. “What’d you pick?” 

Indrid held up The Matrix. “This one seems interesting, to say the least.” He smirked. “I mean, there’s no way a movie can actually surprise me? I can’t control the fact that I see the ending.” It made suspense a useless plot device.

Duck placed the DVD in the player. “It’s about the journey, not the destination,” he declared. “Now I’m gettin’ blankets and pillows from my room, so just hold on a minute.” He left the room, looking a little distracted. 

Then Duck was walking back into the room holding a large duvet and several pillows. He laughed when Indrid made grabby hands at them. “Alright now, jus’ remember to share,” he grinned, dumping the armful of bedding on top of Indrid, making him laugh. He didn’t realize how fucking happy he was around Duck until he was wrapped in blankets and giggling.

Then Duck turned off the lights, the only illumination from the TV screen and the edges of the curtained windows. It felt cozy.

Indrid stuck his head out of the blankets to smile at Duck. He was going to ask to cuddle. Cute, and it made Indrid feel relieved he didn’t have to make the first move this time. Yes, he _very much_ wanted to keep cuddling, but not if Duck wasn’t into it. Thankfully, he was.

“Can we cuddle again?” the ranger asked. Then he seemed to get embarrassed, saying, “Wait, I mean-”

“Yes, we can cuddle again,” Indrid interrupted, holding up the blankets with an arm to allow for Duck to snuggle up next to him, which he quickly did. “I’m glad you asked. I wasn’t sure if this was a timeline I would have to ask.” He felt his heart beating as Duck came so close to him, leaning on him. He was so warm and soft.

Duck mumbled, “Uh, yeah,” and he reached for the remote. But he was smiling, and Indrid felt a little thrill seeing his smile up close. He hadn’t noticed the little dimple on his cheek before. Suddenly, the thing Indrid wanted most in life was to kiss Duck Newton. But he refrained… for now.

To help Indrid keep himself from kissing Duck, he laid on his side a few minutes into the movie, laying his head in Duck’s lap. He was curled around the bowl of popcorn, munching on the snack happily. “Gotta watch it sideways?” Duck asked playfully, taking some popcorn. 

Indrid shrugged. It was probably better to wait to kiss Duck when he had his full mental faculties back, right? And by then he’d be sure, absolutely sure, that Duck returned his feelings. Right now it was somewhat up in the air. Duck’s an easily flustered guy and sweet to everybody. It sure seemed like he’s sweet on Indrid, but you can never know…

Then he felt Duck’s fingers rest on his head, and a purr began rumbling in his chest. He felt so relaxed as Duck petted his hair, enjoying the way he ran his fingers through it. It was soothing. And he felt _loved_.

Indrid’s visions still didn’t stop, since they never did. Right now they were all nudging his thoughts, pushing their way into Indrid’s mind even when he tried to focus on the movie. Duck was thinking about telling him he was brave, and sweet, and wonderful. And it made him blush fiercely. He definitely wasn’t used to being complimented, and it made him feel all fuzzy inside each time a vision passed through his mind of Duck complimenting him.

“You’re distracting us both from the movie, Duck,” Indrid told him pointedly, turning his head to look up at Duck’s face. He really wasn’t following what was going on in the movie at all. He was just thinking about how sweet Duck was to him, and how flustered the compliments made him feel.

Duck withdrew his hand, confused, and paused the movie. “I, uh, sorry? I can stop playin’ with your hair.”

Indrid shook his head. “Actually, please keep doing that. It feels nice.” He blinked up at Duck, smiling when he resumed the petting. Indrid’s glasses were still up on his forehead, and he made direct eye contact with the ranger. His brown eyes were as pretty as ever. 

He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this. In all possible futures, he was shy. Refusing to meet Duck’s eyes, he said, “It’s just that in a lot of potential futures you’re going to say some very sweet things about me, and it’s kind of you to think that way, but I don’t take compliments very gracefully.” 

“Bein’ awkward and embarrassed is my brand, back off,” Duck joked, stroking Indrid’s hair again. The purrs returned, more shy and uncertain than before. “Nah, but it’s okay, I don’t have to say anythin’, especially since you apparently kind of heard it already?” It was a good point, really. He did know what Duck had wanted to say. But the part of him that wasn’t dying of embarrassment wanted to hear him say those sweet things out loud, tell him he was brave and smart. Remembering the words Duck almost said made him blush again.

Indrid turned his head back toward the TV. “Let’s keep watching this. You have good taste.” Because sure, the movie was good, as far as Indrid could tell. He wasn’t really following the plot, though, because of Duck. He was pretty distracting, both in his visions and in real life, where the ranger was making Indrid so happy and relaxed, stroking his hair slowly.

Duck pressed the play button on the remote again. Indrid stopped trying to pay attention to the movie and just listened to Duck’s breaths. In, out, in, out. He felt more steady than shy or flustered now. 

It was nice that Duck could calm him down just by being there.

*

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*


	7. Chapter 7

*

***

*

When the movie ended, Indrid sat up - a little reluctantly, because he was no longer resting his head on Duck’s lap. He stretched and put the empty popcorn bowl on the table. Judging by the sunlight streaming in through the window blinds, it must have been early afternoon. 

“D’you wanna watch the next one?” Duck asked, standing up with a yawn. He looked a little bored.

Then a little vision at the back of Indrid’s mind caught his attention. “We should build a pillow fort,” the seer said thoughtfully.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Duck replied, already pulling pillows off of the nearby furniture. “‘M gonna move the sofa, hold on-” 

But before he could even try, Indrid was already pulling off his glasses. “Not to worry,” he said breezily. First he set the glasses down on a coffee table. Then, he picked up the sofa and set it back a few feet. “Is this a good spot?” Looking over at the ranger, he preened inwardly at the awed expression on Duck’s face. 

“Uh, yeah,” he answered, his cheeks turning red. “I’m gettin’ stuff from m’room,” he said, quickly walking away.

Before Duck returned, Indrid pushed some of the other furniture out of the way so that they would have a clear line of sight to the TV from the fort. He put some of the larger pillows on the floor in the middle of the room, but wasn’t sure what to do next. 

Then Duck walked back into the living room with pillows and sheets bundled into his arms. He approached the preliminary pillow fort site and pulled all of the pillows to the side to make a large, empty space in the middle of the room. “I got this,” he told Indrid with a smile. He set the largest cushions on the ground first so they could lay on them, and by the cushion in the front, he put two equally-sized cushions on their sides to act as the “walls” of the fort. Carefully, he balanced another cushion on top. 

Watching, Indrid found himself a bit impressed, actually. He’d never put forth this much _effort_ into making a comfy spot; he normally just grabbed a blanket and called it a day. This process was more interesting than that, for sure.

Finally, Duck pulled his bed sheet over the structure. Then he crawled inside, putting blankets down as he went. “Alright,” he said, re-emerging from the structure. “I’m gonna put on the next movie. You can get in the fort if y’want.” 

Indrid nodded. “Sounds good,” he said, already crawling into the pillow fort. It was a little difficult to fit his entire sylph form inside, but somehow he found room for both him and a space large enough to hold Duck. Happily, he pulled blankets over himself. This was cozy, and he really enjoyed it. 

After putting the DVD in the player, Duck turned around to join Indrid, passing him the remote and crawling inside the pillow fort, too. The pair were both laying on their stomachs, their heads resting on a regular bed pillow. It was comfortable. 

Indrid’s belly felt as if it had butterflies. There wasn’t enough room for personal space, so he and Duck were lightly pressed together. “How’s the snugglebug doin’?” the ranger asked playfully, and chuckled when Indrid chittered shyly. 

“I’m doing perfectly well, thank you,” Indrid responded. He lifted up his wings in a clear invitation for Duck to snuggle up to his side, and to Indrid’s delight, Duck did so immediately. Purring, he pulled Duck closer with his wings, melting inside when Duck laid his head on Indrid’s shoulder. 

To be honest, the movie wasn’t the most captivating one he’d seen. Visions kept invading his mind since his attention wasn’t very much focused anywhere else. He heard Duck yawn beside him before rolling onto his side to face Indrid. To his surprise, he felt the ranger nuzzling the furry mane around his neck, eliciting soft chitters of shyness interspersed with loud purrs.

“‘M sorry for bein’ so sleepy,” Duck said quietly. “Guess the nightmare really took it outta me.”

A sense of protectiveness fell over the seer, and he pulled Duck closer to his side using his wings. “No worries,” the seer said gently. He took the remote from Duck’s side of the fort and paused the movie. “You can nap, if you’d like.” 

“I don’t wanna jus’ leave you hangin’ out all bored and alone,” Duck told him, voice sounding soft and sleepy.

Indrid nuzzled the top of his head, and he heard Duck sigh happily. “I’m not bored,” the seer said, starting to purr. “I’ll just do some future watching.” After all, the futures had distracted him from the movie. He may as well look through his visions for anything interesting or important.

“‘Kay,” Duck mumbled, burying his face in Indrid’s soft mane. It gave him a happy thrill knowing that Duck felt safe enough to _snuggle_ with his sylph form like a teddy bear as he slept.

*

***

*

Unfortunately, the sleep wasn’t meant to last. 

After only about twenty minutes, Duck was trembling in his sleep. Another nightmare? Indrid rolled onto his side to face Duck and tried to comfort him by gently petting his hair, but it didn’t seem to help much. He suddenly sat up with a panicked gasp. 

“Duck,” Indrid said softly, rubbing his shoulders and looking into his eyes. “Duck, you’re safe. You’re at home, and with me.” He wasn’t sure what the nightmare was about, but Duck looked frightened, and it made his heart hurt for the man. 

The ranger nodded, seeming dazed. He didn’t say anything.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Indrid asked, concerned. 

Duck laid down again, settling at Indrid’s side once more. He put his head down on his folded arms. “It’s just the abominations,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand. “I keep havin’ nightmares about them basically every time I close my eyes.” 

Indrid hummed, one of his hands rubbing over Duck’s upper back. Luckily, it seemed the ranger was already feeling more calm. “Any in particular?” Talking about his bad dreams helped sometimes when he had them as a child, so it was the first idea that came to mind.

Duck peeked at the moth person for a moment. “Y’might think I’m bein’ silly,” he admitted, grimacing. With a surge of protectiveness, Indrid folded his wings over the ranger like a blanket, patiently staying silent until Duck felt like talking again. “I just- when I saw the goatmen pullin’ your fuckin’ injured ass through the snow…” Duck shivered, closing his eyes. His voice cracked as he kept speaking. “I thought you were fuckin’ dead for a second there, god.” 

Reaching forward, Indrid placed a hand on Duck’s cheek. “You saved me,” the moth person said quietly. And he understood, because he’d seen Duck get hurt, too, and his worries about that hadn’t vanished yet. Not until the abominations stopped altogether, because this brave man in front of him was going to keep running into battle until there was peace again. 

And he had to see visions of Duck getting hurt since he’d arrived in Kepler, so Indrid was familiar with the fear he was feeling.

Duck laughed nervously. “This time,” he said bitterly. “Dammit, Indrid, I was _scared_.” 

“I was too,” the seer responded, his hand stroking Duck’s cheek now. “You’re not being silly at all, Duck Newton.” Those feelings were absolutely not silly. Indrid was feeling the same way.

Gazing into Indrid’s eyes, Duck fell silent. He looked searchingly at him, studying him closely. 

After a minute or two, Indrid started feeling self-conscious. “Do you want me to put on my glasses?” Indrid asked, his voice sounding almost timid. 

Duck shrugged. “I like you just as much in either form, to be real with ya.” Indrid chittered shyly, and the ranger smiled at him. “I mean, c’mon. You’re so fuckin’ fluffy as a moth person, why d’you think I want you to be human again?” To illustrate his point, he ran his fingers through the long fur on Indrid’s chest, where the mane began. Indrid felt purrs rolling through him immediately at the affection. 

“I’m not used to people liking this form,” he admitted, tilting his head at Duck. “They usually hate it, actually.” He pushed away the tense memories that flitted across his mind of people reacting to him with horror.

“They don’t know what they’re missin’,” Duck said, grinning.

Indrid opened his mouth as if to speak, then pressed his lips together in a firm line. He was definitely feeling self-conscious now, mixed in with happiness and confusion at Duck’s compliments. Time for a subject change. “Would you like to continue the movie?” 

Duck nodded and reached for the remote.

*

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*


	8. Chapter 8

*

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*

By the time the movie credits were rolling, it was late afternoon. The sun was approaching the horizon, not yet swimming in the sunset, just dipping its toes in. 

Indrid wriggled backward out of the pillow fort. Duck did the same, then started laughing as he looked at Indrid. Confused, Indrid took a look at himself. The moth person’s fur was sticking up every which way. With a lighthearted glare in Duck’s direction, Indrid quickly smoothed down his fur. 

“What d’you want for dinner?” Duck asked, standing up and stretching luxuriously. “Uh, I guess sugary stuff if you’re gonna be mothy. But I can make actual food if y’wanna eat as a human.” 

Grabbing his glasses from where he’d set them down earlier, Indrid placed them on his face and in a blur, he was in his human disguise again. In the back of his mind, he heard Duck tell him he’d chosen a _handsome_ human form. Thanks, visions.

“I mostly just have sweet drinks in either form,” Indrid said. He quirked his brow with a barely-suppressed grin of amusement. “In some futures you said that out loud, by the way.” 

“Fuck!” the ranger cursed, walking into the kitchen and avoiding Indrid’s eyes. “Goddamn mind reader.” 

Indrid giggled and followed him into the kitchen. “You know that isn’t how it works,” he admonished quietly, walking to the fridge and pulling out some apple juice. 

“I know,” Duck sighed, stretching again and taking some leftovers from the fridge to heat up. He pulled out his ponytail’s hair tie as the microwave beeped, showing his food was done heating. 

Indrid sipped his apple juice, looking at Duck contemplatively. He’d noticed him putting his hair in the ponytail and then putting it back down a few times now, and he’d just had an idea. “You know, I could braid your hair,” he offered, standing up from his seat at the table. “So you wouldn’t have to redo it all the time.” 

Before Duck answered, the seer walked out of the kitchen to the living room, pulling the blankets out of the pillow fort and wrapping them around himself cozily. He knew it was a little selfish to ask to play with Duck’s hair just because he liked touching him, but it was still a genuine offer.

Duck shrugged. “It’s mostly just a nervous habit, I guess,” he said between bites. “Fixin’ my ponytail, I mean. But sure, be my guest.” 

The ranger quickly washed his plate and fork in the sink before joining Indrid on the couch. “If you sit on the floor it might be easier,” Indrid suggested. He found himself looking forward to this.

Sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch, Duck sighed, sounding relaxed. Indrid’s deft fingers were gathering up his hair, and it apparently felt nice. “How were your visions earlier?” 

“Surprisingly clear,” Indrid said, slowly finger-combing Duck’s hair. He felt relieved. “I think I may be recovered fully now, actually.” 

“How d’you figure?” Duck asked, curious. 

Indrid shrugged. “Well, I can talk just fine, and draw and write, and my visions are as easy to read as ever.” And he wasn’t in any pain, either, and he could focus well again.

“Well yeah, that makes sense.” 

Slowly, Indrid began taking locks of Duck’s hair in his hands, building up a French braid. “It was lucky you found me before I was too far gone.” 

“Yeah, what the hell was that about, anyway?” Duck asked, sounding confused. “Were you feral or some shit?” 

With a laugh, Indrid said, “Or some shit, yes. I was approaching feral status. Sylphs heal quickly from our connection with Sylvain, you see - but my connection comes from this crystal. Without the crystal or going to the Amnesty Lodge hot springs, I was completely cut off from Sylvain, while at the same time using my remaining connection with her to heal.” He went silent for a few moments, focusing on fixing a small mistake he made in the braid. “If you hadn’t brought me the crystal, well. That would have been it for me, I suppose.” He laughed hollowly. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he had almost gone permanently insane.

“I’m real glad I went to check on you, then,” Duck said. He leaned into the touches Indrid was giving him on his scalp, and that helped make Indrid feel relaxed again. “And that Aubrey was wrong.” 

Indrid hummed. “How was Aubrey wrong?” He hadn’t actually heard what she said when she visited the winnebago. 

“She said once y’get feral there ain’t any coming back,” Duck explained. “Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m _glad_ she was wrong.” There were a few beats of silence. “Uh, you good?” 

“Yes, sorry,” Indrid said sheepishly. Oh, this would be embarrassing to explain... “I’m, ah, it’s just an odd part of being a sylph, I guess.” 

Duck yawned again, not totally awake from his ill-fated nap earlier. “What is?” 

“It’s rare for a sylph to come back from a feral state like the one I was in,” Indrid said, voice growing softer as he talked, even though his heart rate was increasing from this admission. “It takes someone you trust, _really_ trust, to bring you back from that.” 

“Aww,” Duck cooed. Indrid felt shyness rush through him, tinged with happiness at Duck’s approval. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.” 

“Yes, well, it’s certainly something that you, specifically, were the person who came to find me.” He was working down the braid quickly now that the more complicated process was done, now just working through the major column of hair down Duck’s back. Somehow, he gathered enough boldness to say, “I don’t think the other members of the Pine Guard would have been able to help me the way you did.” 

“I’m gonna give you the biggest fuckin’ hug when I’m allowed to move again,” Duck declared, sounding gleeful.

Indrid felt soft inside, and he didn’t respond until he’d finished tying off the braid. “There, I’m finished,” he said. 

Hopping up on the couch, Duck instantly wrapped his arms around the seer, holding him close. Leaning into the hug, Indrid purred loudly. “Thanks,” Duck mumbled. 

“You’re welcome,” the seer responded, wrapping an arm around Duck’s shoulders. It felt natural to be pressed up against him like this, like they belonged together. “Duck, would you mind if I asked you something?” He felt heat rising to his cheeks as he blushed.

“Go ahead,” Duck said with a shrug. 

Indrid bit his lip, indecisive. Is this something he should really ask? Duck leaned back from the hug and looked at Indrid, waiting for him to speak. “Why did you decide to take care of me?” 

Duck laughed disbelievingly. “What, you think I can see someone in that state and just stand by?” Indrid felt his heart drop. Of course… Duck would have done this for anyone.

“Right,” he sighed. The purrs petered out into an uncomfortable silence. “I guess that makes sense.” 

The ranger leaned forward to lay his head on Indrid’s shoulder. The contact was comforting. “And, well, fuck. I dunno how to say this without soundin’ like a big ol’ fuckin’ sap, but, uh, I care about you. A lot.” 

Oh. Indrid giggled, relief and delight dancing within him. “You barely know me,” he pointed out, teasing Duck.

“I think after what we’ve been through, trust comes first, and gettin’ to know each other comes second,” Duck explained, closing his eyes. “I dunno. It’s just, uh… I couldn’t stop _thinkin’_ about you. First when y’said you might leave Kepler, and that was a real disappointin’ thing to hear. But then when you jus’ flew off and nobody knew where you were?” He took a deep, shaky breath. Indrid felt touched by the amount of emotional energy Duck spent thinking about him, worrying about him. “I’m glad I found ya, that’s all.” 

Indrid kissed the top of Duck’s head, making him chuckle and sigh happily. He felt happiness coursing through him. “An’ the more time I spend with you, the more I like ya.” The seer happily listened to Duck’s words, soaking them up like sunlight. He pushed his glasses up to his forehead, wanting to look into Duck’s eyes unimpeded by the red lenses. “I don’t want y’to feel pressured to feel the same way, y’know, it’s just. I like you, an’ I’d like to keep spendin’ time with ya, even though you’re all healed up and such now.” 

Well, _that_ wouldn’t be a problem. Gently, he placed a finger under Duck’s chin and lifted upward until he was gazing into his eyes. “I’d like that,” Indrid whispered.

And he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the ranger’s.

It felt electric, even as Duck smiled into the kiss, interrupting the rhythm. “Me, too.” Indrid pulled back and looked at him fondly, feeling warm from head to toe at the vision that just popped into his mind. “Oh, god, I think I’m-” 

“-in love with you,” Indrid finished for him, laughing. He softly kissed his forehead, overjoyed. “I love you too, Duck.” 

Their eyes met for one more smoldering moment before Duck leaned in for another kiss.

*

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*

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
